The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood and..

“There you are,” he said, his chest rising and falling too
fast. “Stay with me. Okay? Keep your eyes open. Stay with
me.”
I wanted to. Gods, I wanted to more than anything, but I
was tired. Sleepy. I whispered that. At least, I thought I did. I
wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter. I concentrated on his face,
on the lock of dark hair, the winged, expressive brows. I
soaked in the thick fringe of lashes and the high, angular
cheekbones. I studied every inch of his striking features,
from the hard curve of his jaw to his full, well-formed mouth,
committing them to memory. Because I knew…I knew when
my eyes closed again, they wouldn’t reopen. I wanted to
remember his face when the world turned dark. I wanted to
remember what it felt like to be in his arms, to hear his
voice and feel his mouth against mine. I wanted to
remember the way he smiled when I threatened him, and
how his eyes lit up and warmed whenever I challenged him.
I wanted to remember the pride I felt from him whenever I
silenced those around me with words or by blade. I wanted
to remember how he touched my scars reverently as if he
wasn’t worthy of them—of me.
Another bolt of lightning streaked overhead, striking the
ground and charging the air. Chunks of stone flew into the
sky. Casteel’s father shouted, and I heard a chorus of howls
coming from all around. But I focused on Casteel. His eyes
were glossy, and his lashes were wet.
He was crying.
Casteel was crying.
Tears streaked his cheeks, creating glistening tracks in
the dried blood as they rolled and rolled…and I knew…I
knew I was dying. Casteel knew it, too. He had to. There was
so much I wanted to say, so much I wanted to do with him
and change. His brother’s future. Ian’s. That of the people of
Atlantia and Solis. Our future. Did I ever thank him for
seeing past the veil? Or for never once forcing me to stand
down? Did I tell him how much he’d changed my life, how